


my mind is like an orchestra (playing on, insane)

by Sharpworksamurai



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Dissociation, Drug Use, Gen, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prostitution, Trauma, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 00:25:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharpworksamurai/pseuds/Sharpworksamurai
Summary: Sometimes, Klaus floats.Sometimes, it's the nice, dreamy ones that accompany him after a high. Ones which make him forget his name, and the tomb, and Ben's death and the ghosts that just won't leave-But, lately, Klaus has been finding himself in this disconnected float.





	my mind is like an orchestra (playing on, insane)

Sometimes, Klaus floats. 

 

Sometimes, it's the nice, dreamy ones that accompany him after a high. Ones which make him forget his name, and the tomb, and Ben's death and the ghosts that just won't leave-

 

But, lately, Klaus has been finding himself in this disconnected float. It untethered him to this world, the one which made everything blurry as if it was a dream and his own tattooed hands seem so terribly foreign. It was as if his very mind had been plucked up from his body and be shoved into a haze one gets after they have a long nap. 

 

Before, Klaus didn't really mind those ones. Amidst the sweaty bodies that stank of sweat and cocaine, and the cold, cobbled streets that he slept on and the mangled corpses, he kind of cherished those floats. 

 

But now, when he was surrounded by his family and without his drugs, it annoyed him a bit. He would blink and suddenly he'd be standing next to someone, participating in a conversation he didn't even remember. 

 

Well, whatever. Klaus had been through war (blood and guns and a round of bullets firing as John falls beside him, screaming out in pain as he slowly bleeds out from his shot chest and Dave is dragging him away, away,away-) and he'd gone through Reginald Fucking Hargreeves. 

 

(That, in itself, needed a round of applause) 

 

//

 

On a dismal Monday, Klaus is with his family. Nowadays, that wasn't too odd. His family, even though were terribly estranged before, were trying to become closer, something Klaus couldn't help but feel happy about. 

 

(After decades of loneliness and the only the form of touch being from his customers behind a dark alleyway, it was a pleasant change.)

 

Allison is with the Academy for the night, though Klaus knew that tomorrow she would be leaving for Cali. Something about Claire, Klaus wasn't really paying attention, instead choosing to count the number of shades of grey on the tiled walls (roughly 18 shades). Diego was contemplating moving back into the Academy, something Eudora was whole heartedly encouraged (whenever Klaus saw her, all he remembered was the ghosts whispers about how she was going to die, a bullet hole straight to the chest. She was alive and every time, Klaus breathed a sigh of relief). 

 

Luther and Five were teaming up- both being old souls. Five was helping Luther find a way to reverse the serum- without him,you know, being dead. Turns out, being in a body that was forced onto you unwillingly can be quite a burden. Who knew? (Klaus would think of Five, a man trapped in a boy's body, cursed with a tedious youth. Then, he would think of God, a horrible girl that should be kind and forgiving and, you know, not a bitch). 

 

Vanya was more confident and regularly invited her family to the concerts. It was cool of her. (Truthfully, Klaus still felt a bit uncomfortable around her. All he would think of when he saw her was the screams of the dead as they cried over not telling their loved ones their last wishes. He would also ponder about how, if Vanya stayed on the pills, would he still meet Dave? Maybe if she wasn't there, Dave wouldn't have had to bleed out in his pathetic arms, and he wouldn't have had to see the usually beautiful light leave his lover's eyes.)

 

Klaus had a mundane life, compared to before. He attended his narcotic meetings and worked on his powers, blah blah so he could be sober and finally see Dave again blah blah. 

 

How disgustingly boring. 

 

(But the ghosts were still there. Their entrails tailed after him, and when he was in the quiet of the hallway, with his subdued siblings elsewhere, he could hear the patter of blood hit the floor slowly. Tap, tap, ta-)

 

So. Everything was okay. 

 

What was he saying? Oh yeah. So here was: eating at breakfast. Grace had made scrambled eggs and Klaus shot Ben a forlorn look. He wanted waffles, but after spending years homeless on the streets, he'd take whatever (he tried to ignore the fact that Dave loved scrambled eggs).

 

“Hey, bro,” Diego was here. He was wearing his ugly leather stuff, it made Klaus roll his eyes, but at least Eudora was into it.

 

Klaus grinned at him, scooping up some eggs and slurping them up, making Diego wrinkle his nose. Behind him, Luther chortled and settled himself down. (Vanya was at her apartment and by the time, Klaus woke up, Allison was gone. Shame but at least Klaus could raid her closet now). 

 

They started talking about God knows what. He should be thinking about how his brothers were becoming more friendly, but all he was thinking about was that grey jungle. 

 

He thought about how his skin crawled from withdrawal, and how the blaring lights looked suspiciously like the sky in Vietnam after a bomb had been dropped and Ben's soothing voice that dismayed him from the concoction of drugs available to Klaus. He thought about the surge of protectiveness for Luther, and the sharp pain in his bed. He thought about God's horrible words, and Dad's ever meaner words.

 

And then, he thought about waking up in a puddle of his own blood, with strangers more worried about him than his own family. 

 

Klaus felt sweat lining his fingers. His vision started to haze as he felt his breathing slow down. When he opened his eyes, he felt like he was observing his own body through a surgical observation room.

 

Ah, he was again. Floating, broken off from the world that carries in revolving around him.

 

When he opened his eyes, he was on the couch, lap cushioned by Luther's feet as he read a sports magazine. A blanket was thrown around his shoulders. He sat up and Luther said, 

 

“Hey! You feeling better?” Klaus nodded, his tongue still thick in his mouth, “Is that cold going away then?” Klaus nodded again, giving him a quick smile before scrambling to his room. Ben followed behind him, footsteps quiet. 

 

“How,” Klaus swallowed, “How long?”

 

“About 30 minutes.”

 

Ah shit. Klaus groaned, falling into his bed. He looked at his fairy lights and thought,  _ these floats are getting really annoying. _

 

//

 

It was kinda sad that his family hadn't noticed. Ben had once told him that his floats (his really long, triggered ones) looked a lot like when he was super drugged out, in that customer's bathtub, covered in his own filth with eyes wide open and blank. It was scary- for Ben, who had to watch him become trapped outside his body. 

 

After a particularly bad flashback (Klaus didn't want to say, but why the fuck did stepping on an eyeliner pencil sound suspiciously like a landmine going off?), Klaus was floaty. His mind was elsewhere, but looking back, his face was slack. Mouth open, teeth exposed as they took slow breaths, Klaus saw how his eyes were half lidded, blank. His body was lax, pushed against the closet door and his head was leant against the storage cabinet that had all of Klaus’ knitting stuff. 

 

So, maybe it was bad luck, that Diego was walking past and saw Klaus. 

 

Immediately, he had freaked the fuck out. 

 

“Klaus!” Diego hurried over, dropping to his knees. He shook Klaus’ shoulders roughly, but Klaus didn't feel the pain. 

 

“What the fuck, dude! I thought you were off the drugs! You said! You promised!” He yanked Klas arm over his shoulders, carrying him down to the living room. He set him down onto the couch, yelling to the rest of his family to come down. 

 

When he came back with Luther, Five and Vanya (don't think about the bright light, don't think about ChaCha and Hazel, and Dave and-), Klaus was still propped against the pillow. His mind was still hazy, foggy and inchorent. Every thought would started and stopped, losing its direction instantly. Klaus thought his body would've been curled over, hands protecting his ears, but they were actually limp and boneless. 

 

Ugh. 

 

He closed his eyes. 

 

//

 

When he blinked them open, he sat up, a weary lethargy in his bones. He groaned in annoyance but he still felt how his muscles were still sore (like after a raid) and how his eyelashes were crusty with tears (like on the bus after his lover's death). Looking around, he spotted Ben but he was too tired to attempt a conversation. 

 

Diego was peering at him, concern and almost disgust evident on his face. Luther wasn't even hiding his disappointment, Five was scowling, and dear ol Vanya had teary eyes. 

 

(Why was she crying? She didn't know about the war, and the sex, and the drugs and the fucking ghosts)

 

(No one did.)

 

“You relapsed.” It wasn't a question or an observation, it was said as a fact. 

 

Klaus shrugged, getting off the couch, too tired to talk.

 

“What the fuck!” All their voices seem to blur together, “Didn't you want to see Daniel or something? You said you wanted us to meet Ben!”

 

_ Ben. Ben. Ben.  _

 

_ Daniel. Dan- Dave?  _

 

Klaus could feel the floaty feeling coming back, trickling into his limbs bit by bit. He tried to meander onto the stairs, onto his room, in the privacy of thirty ghosts and Ben. 

 

Then, he felt Luther grab his shoulder and suddenly he wanted to drop to the ground, and oh god! A raid! Bombs, and guns and Chaz was shot straight through the eyes and Dave was bleeding out and all Klaus wanted to think about was the disco, and the dancing, and the soft smoke shared between their lips and-

 

Instead, his body was frozen. He shook off Luther's heavy hand. He ignored Diego's blatant cries of anger and turned to his bathroom. 

 

Klaus turned on the bath and the water consumed his fuzzy head, alongside the feeling of self-hatred. 

 

//

 

When the float finally ended, (“that was a bad one.” “I know, Ben. You don't need to tell me every time”), Klaus’ body was submerged in water. He was naked and the pale bubbles seemed eerie against the ashyness of his skin. Ben was worried out of his mind; he hated it when Klaus had his floats in the bath. What if he drowned? (Would that really be that bad, Ben?) 

 

Klaus sighed, so utterly wrecked. His mind was so frazzled. After the ‘Nam flashback and the first float, his mind was fucking ruined by the time that stupid attempt of a family meeting and the second float. 

 

Ugh. 

 

The door was slightly ajar and Klaus tensed at the sound of footsteps. He would've thought they were ghosts, but the footsteps were loud, echoing in the empty halls. Klaus grinned meekly, still in the water, when he spotted Diego. 

 

Diego swallowed, eyes downcast, as he made his way into the bathroom. He wrinkled his nose at the stale smell of the bubbles and once he spotted that Klaus was naked, Diego huffed and turned around, settling himself on the damp floor. 

 

“Yo.”

 

“Hey.” It was tense, before he said, 

 

“Why did you get high, bro? You were so committed. You know I worry and if you want the help-”

 

“I wasn't on drugs, you dweeb.” 

 

Diego flinched, turning around to face him. He ignored Klaus’ nakedness as he said “The fuck? No, dude, you were so doped out.”

 

Klaus swallowed, a heavy pit playing in his throat. He played with the cold water for a while, the soft ripples ringing in his ears. 

 

He said, softly, “I float.”

 

“Float?”

 

Klaus nodded, slow and lethargic, “Yeah. It's all,like, fuzzy and it sucks. Like, yo what the fuck? You wake up, have a regular ol panic attack, and you float away from the world for like an hour?” He tuted, “Lame.”

 

Even though he said it in a relaxed, easy way, his throat stuttered with anxiety and his head was banging like a drum. 

 

Diego leaned forward, concerned in a way Klaus hadn't seen in a while (don't think about the motel, or Eudoras dead body, or the Vet bar or-) 

 

“What? How long has this been happening?” 

 

“A few years. Since I was a teen.” 

 

Diego flinched back again, face white. He crouched next to the tub, clambering up to grip Klaus’ limp hand. Klaus jerked back for a moment. 

 

“What,” Diego stuttered, “what triggered this one?”

 

“Hmm, just you know,” Klaus looked away. He didn't like talking about the war, he didn't like showing his family his vulnerability (why should they be involved in his life now? They watched him scream his throat bloody, they saw him so doped out that he hadn't known their names, they saw him at his worst and did absolutly nothing. Pathetic). 

 

“The war?” 

 

Diego doesn't know much about it, he knows Klaus lover died, and Klaus guesses he's watched a few documentaries on the Nam war, but other than that he underestimated Klaus’ added trauma.

 

Klaus nodded, closing his eyes again. 

 

“W-w-well help you!” Diego stood up hastily, making his way to the door. “I mean! Vanya knows some therapists right? A-and maybe they could get you onto some meds? Maybe? And I'm sure me and Luther could put you in a war therapy group? And!” Diego carried in rambling to himself, and Klaus smiled, small and fickle. 

 

He wanted so hard to believe that he'd be okay, and that he could go outside to the city and not think about how the air smelt like the muddy fields after a bomb attack, and that he could look at Ben in the eyes and not think about how useless he is because he can't summon the only other ghost he wants to see. 

 

He feels so fucking pathetic all the time, useless and a mistake from God, but after Ben cuaghy his eyes in the corner of the bathroom, Klaus felt a small hope brindle in his chest. 

 

_ Dave, _ he thought as he let the bubbles wash over him,  _ I'm coming, baby. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> hi, hopefully i presented dissociation okay. If i havent, pls comment ur experiences and ill edit the fic to make it more realistic. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading


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